Primus sucks! Guess what, the debut album from Primus isn\’t even their first album. They put out a live album in 1989 called Suck on This after only being a working band for about a month or two. I shit you not! I\’ve never heard Suck on This, but I\’ll need to talk about it anyway for some historical context so here I go:

Primus went through quite a bit of change during their early years, but eventually stabilized into the band of lovable fucks we know best consisting of bassist and vocalist Les Claypool, guitarist Larry LaLonde, and drummer Tim \”Herb\” Alexander. Tim\’s actual middle initial is W., so I don\’t know why he goes by \”Herb\”, but I approve of this nonetheless and you probably should too. This is a trio of accomplished musicians, having all been playing professionally or in cover bands for at least a little bit of time prior to Primus (most notably LaLonde, who was a guitarist for the possibly first ever death metal band Possessed). So when Claypool decided to round up his team, it didn\’t take long for the band to gel as a cohesive unit and put on a couple of kickass live shows. Claypool even borrowed money from his dad to cover the recording and the distribution of Suck on This (\”Special thanks to Pops for kickin\’ down the corn!\”)

I have no idea whether or not Suck on This effectively got the word out there or not, but less than a year later Primus recorded Frizzle Fry in the studio. Comprised of five brand new songs, five rehashed tracks from Suck on This, two little transition vignette-type tracks, and one reprise, Frizzle Fry is certainly a good starting point anyway and it\’s not necessary to start with Suck on This. Or even listen to it at all ever! Take it from me! So, obviously, I can\’t truly compare the two records to each other based on my own personal experiences, so I\’ll pretend Suck on This doesn\’t exist henceforward. Excellent.

The thing to know right away about Primus is that Les Claypool\’s bass is the star of the show, always and forever. Frizzle Fry is mixed as if the bass\’ volume is turned to 11, the drums accompany the bass, and LaLonde\’s six miles away playing guitar into a tin cup. And the bass is so obviously the forefront of each and every song that it\’s almost as if no considerations were taken into writing anything for the guitar and drum parts. For all I know, LaLonde and Alexander are completely improvising around Claypool\’s funky, mesmerizing basslines instead. Alexander\’s got this prog drumming style, with switching up constantly with flurries of flawless polyrhythmic syncopation, and LaLonde\’s guitar either dances swiftly around the tasty bass licks, or shreds out some distorted thrash metal riffs. Anyway you slice it, all three are constantly doing something interesting, and makes for some fun-ass music.

Claypool isn\’t the jaw-dropping virtuoso here that he\’d later become, or maybe he\’s downplaying it a bit on the groovy debut album (not that the bass parts aren\’t incredibly technical), but all the songs on Frizzle Fry have a pretty distinct identity dictated by the basslines. His immensely strange, high-pitched, goofy voice, which is the other Primus trademark, is established in full force for sure, and you\’ll probably either love it or hate it. And if you\’re the kind to hate it, you were going to hate Primus anyway.

SO LET\’S BEGIN: The album kicks off with a live snippet of the beginning of Rush\’s \”YYZ\”, which I believe is how Suck on This starts as well, but after a record-scratch type cutaway the real beginning of \”To Defy the Laws of Tradition\” revs up with an unassuming, not particularly in-your-face rumble of bass. …and then WHAM!, all of a sudden your face gets fucked with loud, slappy, funky bass! Woo! And listen to that guitar just twist and weave around it! Hotcha! And those drummy drums! Splooge! I keep talking about guitar and bass and drums like they\’re not on 99.5% of all albums in existence, but I\’m TRYING to DRIVE HOME the POINT that no one slouches in their role, and Frizzle Fry is a miasma of funky, punky, progressive alternative rock/metal with even a bit of jazzy shit thrown in for good measure. And while this stew of crisp funk punk swirls around you, Claypool weirds things up with his crazy voice and unsettling lyrics. In \”Groundhog\’s Day\”, for instance, he barely even sings. He just kind of meanders through some banal description of waking up and starting the day in a very oblique, Primus-like fashion. Same with \”Spegetti Western\”, which is just a rambling, hilarious narration of an unemployed stoner\’s Friday night. Some songs, though, oh man, some songs he really belts it out (\”TOO MANY PUUUUUUUUUUUPIES!\”).

Speaking of unsettling lyrics, do the lyrics truly mean anything? I personally don\’t think so. Primus aren\’t out for poetic revolution. The title track \”Frizzle Fry\” is a nice example: \”I don\’t believe in Santa Claus/I don\’t believe in spite/I have no use for beauty dolls/Especially on this night/I don\’t believe in miracles/I don\’t believe in lies/I don\’t believe in holograms/For I am the Frizzle Fry!\” What the fuck does all that mean? It\’s a perfectly good imitation of lyrical pomposity, perhaps, and even maybe satirizing it a bit. But I can tell none of this shit is from the heart. And why should it be? How about \”They Toys Go Winding Down\”: \”C.G. the Mexican is a friend of mine/We used to sit around the house watching Evil Dead/Talking about the way it used to be/Skit dat daddle dee dee\”. OK, so I pulled the least important-sounding verse in the whole song, but listen to it yourself. A lot of the verses sound pretty deep on the surface (\”One of the animals has left its cage today/In search of better things, so it seems to be/But in this land of polyurethane/Things are apt to get a bit hot as the toys go winding down\”), but then this is tempered by turned-on-a-dime outbursts such as \”It\’s pudding time!/It\’s pudding time!\” that make you go \”What the fuck, what\’s wrong with this guy?\”

Wait a minute, why am I wasting time trying to justify the lack of soulful meaning behind the words? That\’s not the point! Don\’t forget, this is supposed be fun, goddamnit! You won\’t find any real emotion here! Nevermind, I\’m wrong! \”John the Fisherman\” is a nice, little song that clearly comes from a sentimental place. It\’s the story of a young man who wants to grow up to be a fisherman, ends up being a fisherman, and it\’s implied that he dies doing what he loves. Claypool clearly identifies with John, and the fact that the next two albums also have a fishing song shows Claypool\’s passion for the sea.

What else is there? How about \”Harold of the Rocks\”, which is an incredibly catchy, less-than-veiled rocker about a crackhead of course, with my favorite line on the album \”He\’ll talk the balls off a rhinosaurus\”. \”Mr. Knowitall\” hits you with some ha ha ha IRONY at the end, but I won\’t spoil it for you except for right now: \”They call me Mr. Knowitall/I am so eloquent/Perfection is my middle name/And whatever rhymes with eloquent\”. Isn\’t that hilarious??!

And I almost forgot to mention the little interstitial \”Sathington Willoughby\”, which is fun little child\’s music box chunk-a-chunk-a dance beat that is over and out in less than half a minute, but it really PACKS A POLITICAL PUNCH, you might say. Essential? Hardly, but just try jumping straight from \”Pudding Time\” to \”Spegetti Western\”. Unnatural! The flow of the album is natural, don\’t take a single song out. They\’re all good!

I hate to compare Frizzle Fry to later albums at this juncture, because it\’s not like people had the luxury of comparing Frizzle Fry to later albums back in 1990, but general critical reception dictates that the first three Primus albums are the three best, with Frizzle Fry being regarded as the weakest of those particular three. Poppycock, I say; I love all these children equally. I think Frizzle Fry gets kicked around a tad because it\’s not as technically complex as Sailing the Seas of Cheese or Pork Soda. I don\’t like how this is seen as negative, since a lot of the riffs and solos on this record really fucking cook without the necessity of jaw-droppingly quick staccato passages and absolutely dizzying instrumental interplay that are all over the next two records. This is a milder Primus flavor, you know, but just as satisfying. Like, uh, Honey BBQ vs. Mango Habanero from Buffalo Wild Wings, I guess? I think that\’s a fitting simile considering that six out of Primus\’ eight studio albums have some sort of food or drink reference in its title. Didja ever think of that?

Primus certainly breaks some ground as far as alternative rock goes, with their unique marriage of punk, metal, funk, and everything else. Nothing has ever sounded like Primus and nothing has sounded like them since; they stand in their own echelon. However, I can\’t bring myself to call this one Very Good (and SPOILER ALERT, none of their albums may hit this pinnacle, I haven\’t decided yet) because I find it tough to avoid getting burned out on their particular style. Like a Buffalo Wild Wings chocolate cake, Primus\’ music is pretty rich and too much of a good thing can sour the broth. Or something.